Impulsive (15 page)

Everyone stared while she opened the door. David Jameson filled the doorway, broad shoulders outlined by a sharp gray suit jacket. As always, he was dressed to the nines. A crisp white dress shirt hung untucked beneath his jacket. For the first time since Tasha had known him, he wore a pair of jeans, faded in all the right places. His broad hand rested on the back of a tall, gorgeous young brunette. She flowed into the room like a spill of water over rocks, graceful and fluid.
 

“I hope we’re not late,” David said, a charming smile on his lips.
 

“You’re always late,” Randy said, his arm once again around Elijah’s neck, holding him in a tight headlock.
 

“Welcome to my humble abode, motherfucker,” Jack said and slapped his hand into David’s to pump it.

“
Our
humble abode,” Ally interjected. Although her face gave nothing away, after a few years of friendship, Tasha recognized the undercurrent of disapproval in Ally’s tone. So did everyone else. Randy released Elijah, and the two straightened as if waiting for a reprimand from the school principal.

“Which used to be
my
humble abode,” David corrected. He swept his gaze over the apartment with eyes too knowing and too perceptive to be harmless. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Looks great, man.” The compliment was given with sincerity and received with a huge smile from Jack, a frown from Ally.
 

Tasha glanced at Luke to see if he noticed the tension. His eyebrows raised in response. Of course, he noticed. He was perceptive to everyone except her.

“Ally, do you have any more paper towels?” Chelsea came out of the kitchen, her baby girl balanced on one hip and an empty paper towel holder in the opposite hand.

As Jack’s ex-wife, she held a tenuous position in the group. Two years ago, she’d arrived in town, drug-addled and pregnant, and had tried without success to pin the child on Jack. The parenthood of the little girl still remained a mystery. Jack tolerated her presence because Ally liked her. Tasha didn’t know her very well but knew how it felt to be an outsider. She flashed a smile at her, and Chelsea smiled back.

Elijah stepped forward, a delighted grin on his face. “Chels? Oh, my God. How are you?” At the sound of his voice, she turned to face him. All the color drained from her face. “Did you know you’ve got a little creature on your hip?”

“Fucker,” she said. She spun around and went back into the kitchen. The door closed behind her. Everyone stared at Elijah.

He shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Good to see some things never change.”

Chapter 23

Luke’s gaze followed Tasha, taking in the details of her face, like he hadn’t seen her in weeks instead of a few days. He wanted to corner her and keep her all to himself, find out what she’d been doing, hear all the interesting things about her week. The unfolding drama kept him pinned to the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“Could I use your restroom?” David’s date broke the silence with a question directed to Ally, and everyone took a collective breath of relief. “It was a long ride over here, and I need to freshen up a bit.”

“Sure. Of course.” Always poised, Ally smiled at the new girl. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

“Giselle,” she said and extended a manicured hand to Ally. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The room snapped back to normal. Everyone moved toward the dining table but Elijah. He lagged behind until Tasha placed a hand on his back. The small gesture of affection boiled the blood in Luke’s veins. She looked better than ever. Tight black vinyl pants molded over the curves of her ass and those long, sexy legs. Her breasts floated like tight, round tennis balls beneath her silk shirt, the outline of her nipple piercings faintly visible beneath the thin material. Attraction bubbled in his veins. Elijah’s eyes met hers, and she smiled up at him. Luke cleared his throat to ease the constriction.

Sherry put her hand on his back, and he jerked at her touch. He’d forgotten about her, too caught up in Tasha. She smiled at him. His gut roiled with guilt. She was a nice girl, too nice for him. They’d gone out a few times since the concert, but he’d kept a respectful distance. The further he pulled away, the more she clung to him. It was wrong to keep her around when he didn’t want her there in the first place.

He took a seat at the table across from Tasha, even though the thought of watching another intimate exchange with Elijah might kill him. Sherry sat next to him, her hand on top of his thigh. Ally served up a delicious menu of salad, blackened salmon, new potatoes sautéed in butter and rosemary, and grilled asparagus. The flavors burst across his tongue, but he set down his fork after the third bite, stomach churning. Tasha’s eyes met his over the centerpiece of wildflowers then fell to the table. She slowly placed her fork on the edge of her plate. The comforting sounds of silverware against china and the hum of conversation surrounded him, but he felt unsettled.

“Is something wrong, Luke?” Ally, seated to his left, frowned in concern. “You don’t like salmon?”

“No. I mean, yes.” He gave her a quick smile to assuage her anxiety. “It’s great. I ate too much for lunch, I think.”

“It’s really very good,” Gisele said, in her low, cultured voice. “Did you make your own seasoning or did you buy it?”

“Where’s Chelsea?” Elijah asked. “I wanted to catch up.”

“I made it,” Ally said.
 
“It’s a combination of fresh herbs and spices from the market down the street.” She smiled at Gisele, but her gaze concentrated on Tasha and Luke.
 

 
“Ally’s an excellent cook,” Jack said. His chocolate eyes twinkled with pride. Ally smiled back at him.

“I spent some time in New Orleans,” Gisele said. “And this tastes like the real deal.”

“Where the hell did Chelsea get a baby?” Elijah asked. No one was listening to him, but in typical self-absorbed fashion, he didn’t seem to care.

“So how did you meet David?” Karly asked from Elijah’s right side, fork hovering above an overflowing plate. For a petite thing, she could eat more than most guys.
 

“Through a mutual friend,” Gisele said.

Several conversations were going at once. Randy and Elijah discussed the merits of an up-and-coming local band, while Jack and David had their heads together about Felony matters. With half an ear, Luke listened to the conversations, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Tasha. Something was wrong. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. He searched her face for clues. Their eyes met again. She lifted her chin in the stubborn way she had and hooded her eyes so he couldn’t see into them, shutting him out. His hands clenched into fists beneath the table.
Don’t shut me out
, he pleaded, willing her eyes back to his by sheer force of mind.
 

“So what do you do for a living?” Ally asked, still intrigued by David’s date.
 

“I’m in public relations,” Gisele replied with a vague wave of her hand.

“She’s an escort,” David interjected.

 
Karly sprayed a mouthful of wine onto her plate. Randy scraped his chair back from the table. Jack and Elijah laughed. Ally inhaled a bite of fish and began to choke. Luke thumped her on the back.

“Well, fuck me,” Elijah said.

“I can, but it’s going to cost you,” Gisele said, her tone light and playful, turning the full force of her charm on Elijah. Her eyes sparkled at the promise of opportunity.
 

“Have we met before?” Elijah asked, one eyebrow cocked. Tasha heaved a sigh and dropped her napkin onto the table. “You look familiar.”

Ally seemed to have recovered and glared at David. “You brought a hooker into my house? Are you kidding me?” She swallowed and shot an apologetic glance at Gisele. “No offense.”

“Escort,” David corrected.

“None taken,” Gisele said easily. Unaffected, she took a sip of wine while her lips curled in amusement.

“In all fairness,” David began in his most businesslike tone, “Gisele is fluent in seven languages and has a Harvard education. Don’t you, babe?”

“Yes. I have a degree in marketing, but honestly, I make more in one day as an escort than I did in a month at my old job.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and took another sip of wine. Jack poured the last drop of pinot into her glass, emptying the bottle.

Tasha slid her chair back from the table. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
 

“I’ll get some more wine,” Luke offered and swept the empty bottle from Jack’s hands before he could protest.

Tasha closed the bathroom door behind her and sat on the edge of the tub to catch her breath. When she came out, Luke was waiting in the kitchen. Every time she saw his face, butterflies unfurled in her belly. She smiled at him, certain her feelings showed on her face. He smiled back.

“Doing okay?” he asked. He had a bottle of wine in his hands. She handed him the corkscrew from the counter.

“Yes. I just needed a minute. Is it me, or are things really weird in there?” The tendons in his forearms strained as he popped the cork. His arms were her favorite feature, their strength and warmth. She dropped her eyes, trying not to stare.

“It’s not you. I can’t believe my uncle brought a hooker to Sunday dinner.” Their eyes met and they both laughed. The shared emotion filled her with warmth, followed by wistful sadness.

“I know. Right? I’ve got to meet the rest of your family,” she said. “If they’re anything like Jack and David, I bet your family dinners are really interesting.”

“I’d like that,” he said. His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second, long enough to heat her blood.

“So, you and Sherry? I didn’t realize you guys were still seeing each other.” There was no way to breach the subject without sounding awkward, but she had to know.

“Sometimes,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug. “What about you and Elijah?”

“There is no me and Elijah. He was waiting outside when I got here. We came up together,” she said. “We’re friends, I think.”

A muscle tensed in his jaw, his thoughts obvious before he said them aloud. “Like you and I are friends?”

“Not exactly,” she replied. Their gaze met again. A dozen emotions flitted through his eyes. Confusion. Sadness. Resignation. She missed him, the way he cleared his throat when he was nervous, the tiny scar next to his bottom lip, and the clean cotton smell of him.
 

“He said you went on a date the other night.” With his arms folded over his chest, he seemed larger and broader, manly.

“We went to dinner. He keeps stopping by the tattoo studio. The guy won’t take no for answer.”
 

Luke studied her face, his eyes lingering on her lips. “Yeah. Sounds like him.”

“Are you still mad at me?”
 

He set the wine bottle on the counter and focused his full attention on her. “I was never mad at you, Tash. We’re still friends. I just needed a little time away from you to get my head together.” His next admission gave her no satisfaction. “You were right about the sex. It confused things.”

“I miss you,” she said, unable to hold the confession back any longer. “I thought maybe we could go somewhere and talk. There are a few things I need to say.”

“I’d like that,” he replied. The light in his eyes caused her heart to skip a beat. “I’ve got a work thing at Winona’s Wine Bar tomorrow, but…” He stopped talking when Elijah sauntered into the room, and Sherry followed behind him.

“Where’s the wine? Jesus, what are you guys doing? Stomping the grapes in here?” Elijah asked.

Sherry hooked her arm through Luke’s and tugged him toward the dining room with a scowl for Tasha. Elijah stood behind her, his lean form pressed against her back. Luke turned away from them. When he left the room, Tasha felt like he took the sunshine with him.

Chapter 24

The mellow notes of a jazz saxophone floated into the street from Winona’s Wine Bar and scattered in the breeze like the falling leaves of an oak tree. Tasha paused at the curb, waiting for a break in the afternoon traffic, and closed her eyes for a fleeting moment to drink in the music. When she opened her eyes, she spied Luke on the opposite side, hands in the pockets of his black dress pants, hair ruffling in the wind. His gaze caught hers at the same time. He lifted a hand to wave. She smiled back. The sight of him made her breath catch in her throat and heat rush into her cheeks.
 

“Hey,” she said, dodging the oncoming pedestrians to join him on the sidewalk.

When she reached his side, he placed a proprietary hand on the small of her back and bent to kiss her. The heat of his palm burned through her thin T-shirt, conjuring up memories of all the places his hands had touched before. His mouth brushed her cheek in platonic greeting. Disappointment dissolved her euphoria. She tried to decipher his features for clues but saw nothing more than his usual good-natured expression.
 

“What are you doing here, Gretzky? I didn’t think you ventured out of the Boho District,” he teased. “What happened to boycotting capitalistic idealism, evading the bourgeois ennui, and all that?”

“I decided it was time to take my own advice and broaden my horizons,” she replied. “Besides, you said you hate these things. I thought maybe you’d like some company.” Something tempered the former warmth in his eyes, something that made her stomach queasy. When his brow furrowed, she shifted from one foot to the other and back again, suddenly uncertain. This was all so new for her. She didn’t take chances on guys. Maybe this was a mistake.
 

“You’ll be bored,” he said, not sounding pleased at all. His eyes flickered over her outfit. By her calculation, it was the perfect mix of sexy and steampunk. Tight black pants, crisscrossed by straps and buckles, stretched the length of her legs. A simple blood-red T-shirt airbrushed with a giant skull on the front set off the outfit to perfection. Silver skull earrings and matching belt buckle, a diamond stud in her nose, and black nail polish accented the darkness of her attire and highlighted her attention to detail.